


Bug Watching

by Hgrade



Series: Degeneration Drabbles [3]
Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral, PWP, Size Kink, Sticky, exhibition, insect, minicon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7225951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hgrade/pseuds/Hgrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grimlock can be careful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bug Watching

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of the blue, it's really weird. Minitron has traits of both arachnids and insects.

Sure, the 'con had been meddling. Hurting his friends was terrible, Minitron didn't seem very remorseful. Everyone wants to be a part of something, right. Grimlock can understand that, the decepticon just wanted to be accepted into the bad guy fold. 

What the dinobot cannot understand comes from the very subtle scent coming off of the microcopic bot. He's lagging behind the others, but they don't have the same sense of smell as he does. Grimlock points his nose at the tiny bot clutched delicately between his claws. "Are you awake." The tick-like bot twitches, each leg writhing as he struggles to latch onto the dinobot. Instantly, Grimlock is on guard once again. "Oh, I guess you are." Grimlock sniffs the bot curiously. 

The mini bot groans and waves several of his spindly limbs at the muzzle nudging at his abdomen. "Where am I?"

"On your way to prison." states the dinobot.

"Frag." 

"Are you venting on purpose? You smell like it."

A groan, tired and humiliated comes from the smaller bot. "Do you have to bring it up? I'm not going anywhere." he grits his tiny maw at the offending face, it's not going anywhere either.

The tick's audios are met with the eerily cheerful, "I can help you with that."

"What?"

"I said, I can help you with that." Grimlock's brows immediately lower and he looks frightened. His optics trail ahead of him, the others are a safe distance. They aren't expecting him to keep up, after that battle everyone's shifted into their alt forms. 

Potentially, the dinobot could simply kill the microformer without a second thought. Minitron has faced that threat many, many times. He switches gears pretty fast, the dinobot's breaths are warm and laced with a faint eagerness. As if hypnotized, he watches Grimlock's mouth slowly open, tongue tracing over the edge of his sharp ridges. "You … want to?" the tiny bot shakes his head, producing a rattling sound. It doesn't compute exactly. He's never had anyone offer to do anything to him, size being a key issue.

"Yeah." the whisper is hushed, his eyes are glued to the bots in front of them.

There's nothing to lose, if the bot wanted to chomp him in half or crush him to death it would of already been done. "Do it." the 'con has no idea what Grimlock's going to do.

The dinobot leans his muzzle down a little, and opens his maw. The tongue that slides out is monstrously long, thick and it flops out with a wet dribble of drool. He licks along the tick's abdomen, figuring that's where any equipment will be. Grimlock's entire body begins to tremble, his fans chugging against shut ventilation ports. If any of the other guys realize what he's doing there will be no word to describe the depth of slag he'll be in. Bee would be so disappointed, he'd probably order everyone to lock Grimlock up again.

The very thought of being caught makes his panels heat to searing depths. Faintly, Grimlock begins to detect the taste of transfluid dribbling out of the insectoid. The dinobot keeps looking down at the floor to make sure he isn't about to trip over a rock or step off of the path. He's sweating coolant, swearing thanks to Primus they had no beastformers on their team. He must stink of interface by now, growing worse by the nanoklik. Quietly he focuses on the smooth plane of interlocking shell, the end of the bug's thorax tastes great. Excess drool drips onto the dinobot's forearm, he fails to notice it. 

A squeak comes from the tick when Grimlock finally starts to prod the very tip of his tongue into the sensitive nodes. Minitron activates his full array, releasing a slew of extremely soft cables into the tongue's upward motion. Grimlock makes a faint hum, making every piece of the insecticon quiver to its tune. 

More fluid squirts from the insecticon's tiny array of quasi, primitive implements. The cables are incredibly soft and slippery against Grimlock's tongue. He stoops down a little lower, curling his tongue around them and suckling on the form gently. Ahead, Sideswipe stops. Grimlock almost stops, but he forces himself to keep moving. The panic feels like a sharp jab in the stomach, but after a few seconds the grounder moves forward again. Maybe Sideswipe was just testing something. Grimlock strokes harder with his tongue, wrapping it around the cabling and drawing it into his mouth.

Wet squelching comes as Grimlock delicately fits his lips over the cyber-tick's abdomen. Dinobot breath presses down hot and heavy. The bug-like 'con could easily latch onto the turncoat, but he doesn't think of anything but the overcharge cackling through his systems. Grimlock persists for a few more clicks, feeling Minitron's movements grow stronger and more sporadic. In a distant corner of his mind Grimlock realizes that the wiring in his mouth has wrapped around his tongue several times over. Drool has almost completely covered the micro-con's abdomen, Grimlock prodding at the bug's slit with the blunt end of his tongue. He gets almost an inch into the incredibly slick opening when the sudden, sharp squeak alerts him to the bug's overload.

The dinobot smacks his lips against his teeth, the transfluid tastes strange now. The texture is somewhat stickier than he's used to. His fans are overheating even as he methodically begins to pay more attention to his surroundings. Minitron's cables are winding back into his body by the cycle. Grimlock can feel the blush covering his own faceplate. Blunt fingers are still holding onto the tiny blue body carefully, snug enough to prevent escape. 

Gulping, Grimlock opens his vents to the cool air. His steps leave big prints into the floor, and his hydraulics slosh as he moves over a worn path. Strongarm's waiting for him ahead, her lighter form standing out against the forest's shade. He feels like he's been filled with gunky tar and a searing, boiling heat in his spark. Grimlock's smile doesn't fade.


End file.
